


Black Dog

by poppinelle



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Closure, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 12:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4522866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppinelle/pseuds/poppinelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She watched as the woman scanned her son’s features. The boy had Morrigan’s dark hair and light skin, but she knew what caught the Warden’s attention. It was those eyes. They were not his mother’s eyes, but his father’s.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Dog

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: The Warden meets Kieran.

Morrigan waited, watching for the Warden’s heart to break. For the moment when it dawned on her who Kieran was. The mighty Hero of Ferelden, brought low by the sight of a child. No, that was not fair. Morrigan had never known, and would never know, the pain that her old companion felt. She had never ached for a child of her own, had never seen the point of procreation before Kieran. Children had seemed an awfully messy, complicated affair, scraped knees and all of that wailing for attention. Why would anyone _want_ to be a mother? 

Morrigan had also never loved a man the way the Warden did. She had never known what it was like to have someone not of your own kin that you cherished. To want to join with another and have a piece of you both live on in one curious, miraculous entity that you loved more than life itself; the only person that you could love more than one another. Kieran’s life had started as a compromise - her own selfish desire to save some of the old magic while trying to do what was right and spare another further grief. But she knew better now. The love she had for him - she would do anything for her son. He was a light that she had not expected to have in her life.

But to the Warden-Commander, Kieran could only be pain. A betrayal that she had asked the person she loved most in this world to take part in. It must still hurt after all these years, even if the pain had been worth the price. The love the wardens bore for one another was true, she could see that now. But Kieran was also a reminder of the one thing that their love had never brought them. 

She watched as the woman scanned her son’s features. The boy had Morrigan’s dark hair and light skin, but she knew what caught the Warden’s attention. It was those eyes. They were not his mother’s eyes, but his father’s. Morrigan rather suspected that one day he might have his father’s nose as well, but there was no one she could confide that in, least of all the woman standing before her. She wanted to make the jest, but she knew there was a chasm between them. They had never quite been friends, but she had respected the Warden, and that was much more than she could say for most. Morrigan had also been treated with respect in return, and the Warden had tolerated, even been amused by her own admittedly prickly personality. But she knew that nothing would ever be the same after that night, and so she took her leave with the intent of never seeing them again. 

He had been gentle. She had been with men before, hunters and criminals who wandered into the woods and thought themselves taking advantage of some poor lost Chasind girl. Some of them realized their mistake, some did not. It did not matter. She was curious, but she knew what it was she sought, and that she did not need a man for it. They were diversions, frivolities. They provided a roughness she could not on her own. She had expected Alistair to be like that. He had despised her, so she assumed he would use her body quickly and roughly. But no, he had been gentle. Attentive, but silent. 

When he had finished, he’d rolled himself off of her and onto the pillow, pinching the bridge of his nose. She had wanted to prod him, to get him to snap at her, or make some pointed, hate-filled comment. But she could not find the words, and they remained there in silence as he collected himself. Eventually, he sat up and reached for his clothes. She remembered that she’d turned her eyes towards the fire as he dressed, out of some absurd notion of modesty that had overtaken her. It had been so quiet that she could hear him lacing his boots. When the other side of the bed lightened, she’d turned to face him, not knowing what to expect.

He’d looked at her for a moment, shame and exhaustion warring to break past the mask on his face. “I hope I did not offend you too much.” 

She shook her head. “No.” She would have responded in kind, but had not really wanted to know his true thoughts, so she said the only thing that would not make the moment any worse, a quick and quietly whispered ‘thank you.’ And with that he left. 

“Is that a griffon there?” A lyrical voice cut through her memories, and Morrigan looked up in surprise to see the Warden-Commander with a gentle smile on her face, pointing at the intricate collar of her son's tunic. 

Kieran nodded eagerly, “It’s a Grey Warden griffon, like yours. My tutor says that griffons grew twice as tall as men, and that they picked their own riders.”

The Warden grinned back at him, “Aye, they did.”

“Are the griffons really gone?” Hope brimmed dangerously in the boy’s voice.

“Kieran.” Morrigan warned, gently. She did not tolerate too many fancies, and this obsession with the wardens had gone on for long enough.

The Warden leaned down to answer him, almost conspiratorially, “That is what they say. But perhaps they are just in hiding. I have traveled far, and I would not be surprised if there was some corner of the world where they yet roost.” 

His eyes lit up, “Would you ride one?”

“If it would let me, of course.” She stood, clapping her hands against her thighs for emphasis, a wide grin on her face. 

“Could I?” He asked in earnest.

Morrigan wanted to cut this short, but it was the first she had seen the Warden look genuinely untroubled since she’d arrived. 

“Well, that depends on a great many things, but if we find one, and if it likes me, I would be more than happy to take you along for a flight." Her eyes flickered up to Morrigan's for approval. "Provided your mother allows it, of course.” 

Kieran looked at his mother pleadingly. She sighed. “Oh alright, if the Warden-Commander can find you a griffon, and if it does not bite off both your heads, you may ride with her. But first, you must complete your studies, young man.” 

The boy nodded softly, and bowed to take his leave, but the Warden stopped him. 

“Wait - since you like griffons so much, there is something else that I think you might enjoy.” She reached into the pouch at her waist, retrieving a small carved statue. At first Morrigan thought it was of a griffon, but now she could see that there were too many rounded edges. Kieran reached out for it and turned it over to admire the work. 

“It’s a Mabari. They are Ferelden war dogs, fiercely loyal to their handlers, just like a griffon.” She pointed to a pattern of faded paint at the nape of the wooden dog. “That is his kaddis, the war paint that provides protection from spells or gives the dog extra strength.” 

“Is it magic?” 

The Warden stood, catching Morrigan’s eye, impressed. “Of a kind, yes. Like an enchanted ring or collar.”

“He’s very handsome.”

She smiled. “He’s yours now.” 

Kieran's eyes shot up, wide. “Thank you, Ser Warden-Commander.” After a quick nod of approval from his mother, Kieran took off clutching the carved dog close to his chest.

“If he starts begging me for a mangy beast, I will set a hex on you.”

The Warden barked a short, hollow laugh. “Is that all?” 

“I suppose I should be grateful that you did not offer to let him ride one. Where is that filthy animal of yours, anyway?” 

The Warden’s expression fell slightly. “He passed, about three years ago. Big dogs like that do not live for long, and I’m afraid that exposure to the Darkspawn taint shortened his life even further. He was beginning to show signs, so we put him down.” 

“I...I am sorry.” 

The Warden shook her head, taking the comment as more apology than sympathy. “You did not know. It was a peaceful death, better than what most of us can hope for.” She sounded tired again, and rubbed her eyes. “Alistair carved that token for me not long after.”

Morrigan frowned. “It is a sentimental gift? Then why give it away?”

The Warden shrugged, staring off to where Kieran had disappeared. “I am beginning to realize that it is better to let go of some things.” She looked at the ground guiltily for a moment before meeting Morrigan’s eyes again. “And - and I would like the boy to have something of his father’s - if that’s alright with you.”

Morrigan stood silent for a moment, in understanding. “I will make sure that he treasures it.” 

The Warden sighed, but looked significantly lighter. “You’ve raised a fine young lad, Morrigan. And Alistair was right, he has changed you. For the better, I think.” 

She wanted to bristle at that, but let it slide. She supposed it was a compliment. After a moment of companionable silence, Morrigan sighed. 

“He’s going to have his father’s nose, I know it.”

“Oh, shut up. It's a handsome nose.” 

Morrigan scoffed.

**Author's Note:**

> Though I wrote this with my Warden Elissa Cousland in mind, I deliberately tried to leave out any descriptions so that others could insert their own Wardens here if they so choose. Obviously not all PCs would want children, and so in this piece that is Morrigan's assumption based on her understanding of "traditional" relationships and the fact that the Warden cannot have a child. Let me know if that worked - and hopefully it wasn't too confusing or off-putting to use titles instead of names.


End file.
